


Vindicated

by SubwayWolf



Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Come Leaking, Coming Untouched, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, M/M, Men Crying, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Mutual Pining, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Self-Esteem Issues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bareback, sex as a coping mechanism, sexual healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Super Bowl loss, Luke hurts, but he feels Cam's pain, too. There is a way both of them know, a way of sharing both love and pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally a request for a chapter in With Love and Squalor, but... it kind of got out-of-hand because I liked the idea so much, so it's going to be long enough to be a stand-alone. With multiple chapters. Special thanks to Rachael ([AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RachaelBrach/pseuds/RachaelBrach) / [tumblr](http://rachaelbrach-hero.tumblr.com/)) for striking my fancy (and a few other parts of me) with her excellent, awesome, perfect request.
> 
> This will be mostly Cam/Luke centric despite this first chapter being about Cam fucking basically everyone except for Luke, haha. Just be patient. I hate to throw slow burn on you guys because I love you, but I promise it'll get there. Eventually.

When Luke’s phone screen lit up this time, he didn’t feel any twinge of hope. He had realized how stupid it was to think that Cam was texting him and it was even stupider to get excited whenever he felt his cell vibrate. So when he saw that it was Greg Olsen messaging him, he didn’t have to deal with disappointment.

_(+705) Olsen: just walked in the door. he’s not doing good_

Luke didn’t even bother opening up the full message to get rid of the notification. Greg’s text wasn’t news. Luke hadn’t even gotten his hopes up to expect something different. That might have seemed like lack of confidence, but in reality, it was just a side-effect of understanding Cam Newton so extremely well. After the loss, Cam wasn’t coming out of the shell he had built up, and it wasn’t looking like he would any time soon.

Despondent, Luke sat in silence on the bed in his hotel room. The TV was off and he was reclined on the bed trying to find a moment’s peace, but Cam was on his mind. 

Luke had never seen Cam like this before. The quarterback seemed broken beyond repair. For the past four days Luke had been constantly doubting himself, doubting if he could even help. He was so bothered by it. He was feeling his own pain, but he was feeling Cam’s, too. 

Taking a deep breath, Luke took his phone back out. It looked small in his massive hands as he replied to Greg’s message with a question:

_Is he smiling?_

Luke hit send before he could really think about what he’d typed. It was on his mind all day, just those three words, it was all he worried about. It was that question that hurt him the most, especially since he knew the answer. But he could have phrased it differently, not made it sound so pathetic. It was too late though.

Greg didn’t seem to mind. He responded in less than a second.

_(+705) Olsen: nope_

That wasn’t surprising. Luke didn’t even have to ask the question, in all honesty. But it didn’t stop him from wanting an answer and hoping for a different one. His phone buzzed again, and then again.

_(+705) Olsen: i’ll try and help_

_(+705) Olsen: i know he hasn’t asked for you. but he needs you_

Luke knew that, too. And he knew that Greg would do his best in the best way of comfort he knew. And Cam did appreciate that specific kind of comfort, and it worked before, and it was fun before. But Luke didn’t see it bringing success any time soon. He had to be there, as soon as possible. 

_(+705) Olsen: you should come by soon._

Great minds. Luke would have smiled if he wasn’t feeling like absolute crap. He sat up and shifted his body and got off the bed, grimacing all the while because he was still sore. He stood and grabbed his hotel key and wallet off of the countertop, finishing his text without even having to look at the screen.

_i’m fifteen minutes out. Omw_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-posting to separate POV's by chapters, don't get excited. This'll make for more timely and frequent updates.

The darkness and emptiness of the room didn’t feel lonely to Cam. Loneliness wasn’t the problem. Silence wasn’t the problem either, even though it usually was. He’d always had music playing if he wasn’t surrounded by people and their voices, but he could appreciate silence, too. Silence was peaceful in its own right, but it elicited thought. Sometimes quiet reflection was a good thing. But right now? Not so much. 

Greg Olsen had just arrived. He arrived and gave Cam a hug and that felt so good, to be held in someone’s arms, and the hug had lasted a long time and Greg hadn’t said anything but “Hey, Cam,” before doing it. God, it felt so good. Cam didn’t have the energy to say anything back but he hoped Greg knew how much he appreciated it. He had to have known.

Greg was in the bathroom now. Cam was just waiting in silence. He wondered if he smelled like sex or if it was obvious that he’d been crying. He could feel come still inside his hole but just kept it inside instead of cleaning himself out for the sole reason that he was too exhausted to get up.

Cam turned his head and looked at the bottom of the closed bathroom door to see the light flooding into the room from the bottom, lighting up the floor in a sort of golden crown. Greg still hadn’t shaved that goddamn beard, and Cam was sort of wishing he had, but he really didn’t care. He was just grateful that something was distracting him from what he felt. Being mildly perturbed about facial hair was better than feeling the acidic pain of losing.

Assuming that they would go home with the Lombardi trophy was stupid. So, so stupid. Picturing it in his mind was not something he regretted, though. And he had considered the possibility of it ending with a loss, but not long enough, it seemed. Cam hated losing, but come on, who didn’t? He was hurting so bad and he didn’t care if people knew about it, and he didn’t care what kind of shit people talked about him because of it. He never, ever listened to the noise. It was the noise inside his own head that mattered.

That’s why he was inviting friends over. Not for a shoulder to cry on, not necessarily. He just wanted to be distracted from the thoughts in his head. Casual sex with friends whom he platonically loved was as good of a solution as any, and it was healthier than hooking up with strangers, which was not Cam’s style and would have hit his self-esteem even worse. Getting fucked hard by people he cared about and who cared about him was the only thing he could think to do.

It posed a mutual benefit as well. Cam felt so guilty about leaving the team hotel and secluding himself, but only because he knew his friends felt bad about the game too. He wanted to be there for them. He wanted to help and make it easier for them, but for once in his life, he didn’t know how. And that hurt the worst.

Cam was had been inviting his closest friends over and trying to make them feel better one by one, but it was for himself, too. He needed to do some self-healing, and that was okay. His friends wanted to help him out, too. That felt good, more than anything. They cared. It made Cam feel happy, but it still wasn’t enough.

Now? Greg Olsen was here. Cam could hear the toilet flush. He shifted in his seat – his bottom was still sore from the spanking, and his throat hurt, too. He knew that Greg was going to be rough with him tonight. It was kind of a mutual agreement, and they both knew Cam needed and wanted it. He was getting good at ignoring the pain in his heart and anticipating something new.

Even so, there was someone else he needed. Someone closer, dearer to him. If he was to have any hope of getting better, ever, he needed this man. He needed Luke Kuechly.

But Cam didn’t ask for him. Luke cared for him so much and Cam cared right back, but that was the problem. If he were to show up, he would turn the lights on and he’d want to talk and he’d touch Cam so gently with those big, soft hands – that wasn’t what Cam wanted right now. It was what he needed, but not what he wanted.

Well, of course he wanted Luke. He always wanted Luke. He wanted Luke to kiss him, to hold him, to touch his hands and body. He wanted to hear Luke’s voice. He wanted to see Luke’s smile. He wanted Luke’s eyes to meet his when they talked or while they fucked or just while they saw each other from across the room. He just wanted to be with him, all the time.

But Luke couldn’t see him like this. Bruised, in pain, desperate to cry… no, Luke should not _ever_ see Cam like this. Cam wanted to put his best face forward. He wanted Luke to see him as a leader, not someone who hid away. He wanted Luke to see him as someone in control, not someone desperate to be roughhoused and manhandled and choked and spanked. 

But most of all? Above everything else? He wanted Luke to see him as a winner. And Cam Newton was a lot of things, but right now, a winner was not one of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update for the sole reason that I'm bored.
> 
> Back to Luke's POV. Should I tag this as slow burn? I'm thinking I should.

As he took the taxi out of town to Cam’s hotel, Luke started to worry even harder than he was before. 

The night after Sunday’s game, Cam had attended the team meeting, which lasted into the early morning hours, but did not come back to the team hotel. Luke had to be informed by Cam’s agent that the quarterback had gone to a hotel outside the San Francisco city limits. Cam purposefully wanted to be away from the excitement and commotion of the city, which were things Cam usually enjoyed, especially when he needed cheering up. 

Cam didn’t particularly like to drink heavily, sleep around, or party recklessly, so Luke wasn’t worried about him in that regard. But Cam thrived off of making people smile and being happy all the time, so the seclusion, especially since it was outside the city, was troublesome. 

So he went ghost. He hadn’t come back to the team hotel even once. Hadn’t made a phone call or used any social media. Hadn’t been seen by anyone. It was probably Cam’s goal to be alone, which was so uncharacteristic of him, but as always he was damn good at achieving his goals, even if he didn’t exactly feel like that was true right now.

It was especially strange that Cam didn’t ask to see Luke, of all people. Luke had sent him a few texts since Sunday but didn’t get a reply to any of them holding any more significance than to prove that he was in fact still breathing. Cam was really closing in on himself. And now that things were getting worse, the loneliness was transferring into something more destructive – he was inviting Greg over, and Josh Norman before him, and then Mike and Jon. As much as he tried to hide it, Luke was worried sick.

The last time they had heard each other’s voice was after the game, outside the locker room. 

It had been weirdly quiet there in the tunnel. The media was so focused on the Broncos’ confetti party back out on the field that for once it felt like the Panthers players could be alone for some peace and quiet – even though, for once, they had wanted the exact opposite. But that glory went to Denver. So silence is what the Panthers received.

Cam had been despondent since practically the middle of the third quarter. He had been so good at staying calm, so good at being a leader and keeping his cool even when it threatened to slip. He and Luke rarely saw each other on the sidelines because Cam was on offense, and when Luke watched him go out there and take hit after hit, it frankly broke his heart. Even so, Cam had managed to stay resilient until the clock hit all zeroes.

So it wasn’t until after the game that he visibly broke. Luke had seen him slip into the crowd to congratulate Manning, but lost him afterwards, and it was only when they were finally in the tunnel and spotted each other across the open space that Luke really saw how Cam was feeling. It was in his eyes. He was sad. He was hurting. And worst of all, he was doubting himself.

Luke didn’t have to move towards him. He stood and waited as Cam picked up his pace and walked down the tunnel. Cam was still in pads and his helmet was still on, shielding most of his face, but the emotion could be seen even through the bars of his mask. 

As Cam approached, he looked like a warrior. He always did. He was so big and carried himself so well. But this warrior, the one Luke saw before him in the tunnel, was one with no glory. Luke found himself thinking of a Trojan being stripped of his armor and weapons by the invading Greeks – the ultimate symbol of disrespect and loss of pride. But Cam was suited up, his jersey jet black and apt for mourning, his once-white pants stained green and earthly brown from being slammed to the turf almost constantly. The pads made his shoulders seem wide and his posture proud, but that was all the illusion, the hero’s costume, the colorful territorial display to ward off enemies, a display which had frankly failed.

Luke barely had enough time to snap out of it before Cam was close enough to touch. Luke opened his mouth to say something but Cam took him in a hug instead. 

They stayed quiet for a while, just holding each other. Cam let out a wary exhale as soon as they came into contact. It was awkward to try and hug someone wearing pads, and Luke worried that the pressure wasn’t getting through to Cam or he wasn’t feeling it, so he squeezed harder. They stood and held each other and Luke could hear Cam holding his breath so he wouldn’t cry. They didn’t care who saw them.

Though he wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed, Luke had spoken first, barely above a whisper. He turned his face so his cheek was against the surface of Newton’s silver helmet. “You have to go talk to the media.” He tried keeping his voice gentle. He knew Cam didn’t want to do it. He knew Cam would rather do anything else right now.

Even beneath the pads, Cam’s muscles tightened in discomfort. His grip on Luke increased marginally and he leaned forward to be closer to him. His lips parted and he exhaled, like he was in pain, like his heart was broken. “I want to be with you,” he mumbled over Luke’s shoulder, barely audible. He was hunched over, weak. Though taller than Luke, he was leaning on the other man for support like he was about to collapse onto the floor.

Luke was strong enough to hold him upright. He only wished he could do more. “Come on. Just keep your head up a bit longer. It’ll be over soon.” It wasn’t going to be that easy, of course. Both of them knew that. Luke just wanted to go home and get some sleep. It was simple, but it would have been more appreciated than just about anything right now. 

Cam straightened himself. He still hid beneath his helmet. His lips were twisted in a frown; he couldn’t help it or fight it. He was exhausted, not just physically, but mentally. On a normal game day for the post-game press conferences, about now, Cam would be changing into a fresh Versace outfit and tastelessly vulgar shoes, be lit up in a smile as bright as a billion stars, and be sweet-talking the press after nothing more than a joking eye roll in mock protest, but now, that Cam seemed to be a figment of the past, someone who didn’t exist, or never had. This Cam, the Cam of today, he wanted to beg Luke to take him away. This Cam wanted to say no, to protest or fight. But he didn’t say a single word – he probably couldn’t, but even so, he didn’t have to. 

That was the last time Luke had seen him. Cam had already turned around to the locker room by the time he took off his helmet, so Luke didn’t get to see his face, but thinking back, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

Looking back on it, the hardest part was that, over the years, Cam was always a friend to his teammates whenever they were feeling down. The entire team was feeling awful after the loss, but Cam wasn’t here or smiling, so it not only made the feelings worse but it left the team feeling helpless. They couldn’t help their leader who had helped them through so much, both the ups and downs. Luke was defensive captain and had friends on the offense, too, but Luke wasn’t Cam. Cam radiated happiness and warmth, like the sun’s rays. And now that light had practically gone dead.

The taxi couldn’t arrive at its destination soon enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a long update to make up for the fact that I haven't updated in like half a month. I just want to say, I love how much support this ship is getting. Finally you'll see some Luke/Cam action after a lot of time Cam spent with... other people. Give me a break, guys. I ship Cam with everybody, okay? But mostly I ship him with happiness. And success. And Luke Kuechly.

Greg Olsen was just so big. There were some times when Cam was so stuffed and stretched open that he felt that if he took any more ramming up his insides, he was going to be sick. But the pressure of having a warm, heavy body pressed on top of him was so comforting. It was keeping him grounded, pushing all of his weight into the mattress so he was surrounded by warmth. 

They weren’t kissing. Cam preferred it that way. Cam had his head tilted to the side, his chin over Greg’s right shoulder. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were closed – it was dark anyway, the middle of the night, maybe, and Cam still hadn’t turned on a single light switch since he’d arrived. It was nice too that they didn’t have to talk. Greg was a good friend. He understood. He had a good sense of humor when he was in a good mood but he was a man of few words when he wasn’t. Even so, it was like he knew what Cam needed.

An unbidden moan crept past Cam’s lips when he came on his tummy and onto Greg’s knuckles. Greg pumped every last drop out of him. It wasn’t his first orgasm of the evening, and this one ripped out of him unexpected and hard. Cam was so sleepy that only the repeated stimulation of being fucked was keeping him awake.

Not long later, Greg nutted into him, way deep inside, filling him up with hot come to add into the mess of old and new seed that was still in there. His hole was such a sloppy mess now, and it was so full that he could feel waves of heavy, hot seed moving inside of him whenever he moved. Cam knew his insides would be burning when this was all over, but it hardly mattered to him at the moment. 

Greg pulled out of him and took a moment to catch his breath. He wiped off the come coating the top half of his dick on the inside of Cam’s thigh, and Cam was pleased to take it and be used and have a mess made of him. Cam wanted to be flipped onto his stomach and fucked all over again, but hands didn’t come to move him.

In fact, Greg didn’t come back at all. He went to find a tissue to clean up his hand and then pawed around in the dark to find his clothes. He wasn’t saying a word, he was still short of breath, but it was clear what he was doing.

Also catching his breath and trying not to fall asleep, Cam draped his hands over his tummy, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing and feeling the creamy mess on his stomach that had trickled down into the curly black line of hairs trailing down between his legs. There was a twist of hurt in his gut when he realized that if Greg left, he was going to be alone again.

Despite knowing the answer, Cam asked, “Are you leaving?” He could barely speak any more words than that at a time. He was aching and exhausted, and his eyelids were drooping, his body begging him to sleep. He felt a frown cross over his own lips. “Please stay.”

Greg gave his answer by stepping into his pants and pulling them up his waist. “No, Cam,” he answered in a gruff voice.

Cam was already starting to feel alone and Greg was still in the room. Being alone was the only thing he could feel and think of, and he wanted to do anything to stop it from happening. “But, Greg,” he whined. When Greg only continued dressing, Cam flipped over on his stomach and looked over at him helplessly. “ _Please?_ ”

With a sigh, Greg pulled his shirt over his head and looked over at Cam from across the room. “Don’t give me that look,” he said in response to Cam’s puppy dog eyes. “You’ve had enough. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Cam’s throat started to tighten. He closed his eyes and frowned in the dark. His voice was quiet, so quiet Greg might not have heard him. “Please, Greg…”

A light turned in the other room. Cam’s eyes shot open. His heart sunk in his chest; it seemed to know who had arrived before his head did. 

Greg turned his head and towards the light, then blinked a few times to adjust. Heavy footsteps gently padded through the other room, cautiously, and the intruder closed the door behind them, trying not to disturb anyone inside. Greg looked at Cam and pointed at him assertively. “Stay right there,” he ordered.

Cam blinked and Greg was gone, stepping through the bedroom door and then leaving it open less than an inch, so a stripe of light crossed the bed and the rest of the room diagonally, lighting up a golden line across Cam’s torso.

It took a lot of focus and held breath to hear what Greg was whispering to the intruder behind the door. “There you are,” Greg said. “I just finished with him.” A pause, and then, “Hey, I know how you feel about him, but listen to me. He’s a mess; keeping him company is better than him being alone. And it’s what he wanted – it’s _all_ he wanted.”

Then a voice replied. “I know. I’m not upset, just concerned. Honestly, I’m just glad he’s doing this with people I trust. Thanks for being there for him when he asked.” 

Cam closed his eyes and just listened to the voice. It wasn’t gruff or deep or heavily masculine, it was sweet and soft and gentle, and Cam knew exactly to whom it belonged.

Luke Kuechly. Oh, of course. Cam’s stomach sunk now, sending a wave of panic over him. Of course Cam wanted to see Luke. But he didn’t want Luke to see him.

Without thinking, Cam crawled up to the head of the bed and dug himself in under the covers, hiding, buried in the blankets, and covering up his head too. He kept quiet to listen to them. He hoped he didn’t make too much of a commotion by moving.

Greg answered Luke in a voice just as quiet. He must not have wanted Cam to hear him either. “It’s the least I can do for him. But listen. The kid’s a mess, man. You’re right to be worried – I am too; we all are. He’s definitely not himself. I don’t know if it was the game, or the press conference, or what.”

Luke’s voice was just barely above a whisper. “I’ll take care of him,” he assured Greg. “Go back to the hotel. If Coach asks, tell him we’ll be back later.”

A rumpling noise was heard, like Luke was taking off his jacket or Greg was putting his own on; perhaps both. “Alright, I will. But the plane isn’t going to wait for you two, you know,” he joked. He had loud footsteps and padded out, towards the door, then hesitated. “Take care of him. We all care about him, but you’re the one he really needs, _and_ deserves. Understand?”

The answer must have been silent, because there were no more words spoken. The next thing Cam heard was the room door opening and after a moment closing again. Cam knew that he was alone with Luke. He should have felt happy and excited and relieved, but he still felt sad.

There was silence for a while. Cam’s stomach was all knotted up. All the sleepiness in him had faded away, replaced by apprehension. Maybe Luke was planning what to do or say before coming into the room. Maybe he was having second thoughts and would turn and leave. So many scenarios played through in Cam’s head about what was going to happen, but most of them were inconceivable. Cam _knew_ Luke. He knew what was going to happen. There was no reason at all to be afraid but that didn’t stop him from feeling that way.

Quiet footsteps got closer until the door was pushed open, and a voice gently asked, “Cam?” Luke waited for a response, but he got none. He didn’t need one to know Cam was there, though. “I’m going to turn on the lights, okay?”

Cam said nothing it first, but god, he couldn’t bear Luke seeing him like this, and he felt better in the darkness. “Please don’t,” he whispered, muffled under the covers, and hoped Luke heard him. But Cam didn’t want to be the one talking. He wanted to hear Luke’s voice, wanted to feel him closer…

Since Cam was almost six and a half feet tall, it was pretty much impossible for him to hide, even under the covers and in the dark. He couldn’t really tell if the lights were turned on but he couldn’t hear the sound of the light switch. “Can you come out for me, please?” Luke was extremely close now; he must have kneeled on the floor beside the bed. “I just want to see you.” 

Cam didn’t move or say anything. He stayed under the covers and in his head he should have been screaming but it was silent there too.

There was a shuffle under the covers as Luke reached underneath, searching. He wasn’t going to pull the covers off – not that he could with Cam huddling them so tightly to himself. He pawed around for Cam’s hand and paused when he found it. “There you are.” He placed his palm on top of Cam’s and held his hand.

The touch was sudden and it quickened Cam’s heart. It didn’t take a second though for Cam to squeeze back. Their fingers laced together. The sensation made Cam’s chest and stomach get excited like there were sparks lighting him up, like it was the first time they ever held hands. He almost smiled. 

Luke sighed, almost unnoticeably, like he was relieved and completely content. “Hey, Cam,” he whispered lovingly. Their first greeting in days.

Cam was only capable of a whisper. “Hey, Luke.” He wanted to follow up, he wanted to say _I missed you_ or _I’m glad you’re here_ or _Please don’t let go_ but his throat was tight and he felt like crying, so he said nothing. He gripped Luke’s hand tighter.

When Luke loosened his grip, Cam didn’t want to release him, but he had to. Luke took his hand out from under the covers. “Come on out. There’s nothing to hide from.” The mattress shifted when Luke sat on the edge, looking over his shoulder to the mass of blankets Cam was hidden under. “Just take a seat on the bed, right here next to me. That’s all I’ll ask, okay?”

Cam obliged, mostly because he kept thinking about holding Luke’s hand again. He sat up in the bed and shifted out of the covers and then moved over to sit over the edge, to Luke’s left. He had to move slowly; moving too fast caused him to suck air in through his teeth in pain. It still hurt to sit, because of being fucked and spanked. He seated himself right next to Luke but still didn’t look at him. 

They just sat like that for a while. It took a few moments for Luke to speak. “Greg said I should come over,” Luke explained, then seemed to regret it. He wasn’t exactly throwing Greg under the bus. Cam knew that someone would tell Luke eventually; maybe that’s why he kept doing it. “And I wanted to see you. We didn’t have a chance, after media hour.” 

Cam wasn’t really planning on responding but he soon found out that he couldn’t. The second he shifted his weight to lean forward, a creamy mess of come started to slip out of his hole. He tried tightening up but he couldn’t stop it. He was leaking a runny, soupy mess out underneath him, and the sticky liquid was running out under the back of his thighs and filling the crack of his ass, spreading into a sloppy, dark puddle onto the sheets. As days’ worth of cream loads just poured out of him all at once, his face flushed and he groaned. The feeling was disgusting and it upset his stomach, and he could feel it running everywhere in a creamy flood. He put a hand up and covered his face and flushed cheeks in shame, groaning, “Aw, geez…”

Luke seemed to know what was happening, even in the dark; maybe he could smell it. He turned and felt the wet sheets with the pads of his fingers. “Oh.” He grimaced, but then recovered, “It’s alright. Let’s, um… Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Cam just shook his head. He put his other hand to his stomach and pressed a little, forcing another spurt of come out of his wide hole. The sheets beneath him were wet and warm and sticking to his legs but he didn’t want to move from them, he wanted to stay in the mess. “No,” he said to Luke, closing his eyes tight behind the cover of his hand. “It’s such a big mess…”

Predictably, Luke wasn’t having any of it. “It’s okay, Cam.” He placed a hand on Cam’s back and pulled him into a half-hug. He was a lot closer now, his whisper-soft voice very close to Cam’s ear. “I’ll clean you up, okay? I’ll run some warm water, get a clean towel, and wipe it all off. It won’t hurt a bit, I’ll be nice and gentle.” He started to rub his back gently, easing him into relaxing. “I want to do it. All you have to do is let me. Okay?” 

It made Cam feel more comfortable that Luke was asking permission for things and using his name and making it clear that he was here because he wanted to be. Guilt and embarrassment were still there, but if Luke weren’t communicating with him as gently as he was, the emotions would have felt worse. Cam sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then placed both hands in his lap. “Okay,” he answered weakly.

Luke stood up and removed his touch. The lack of body heat was instant and Cam almost shivered. “Good. I like taking care of you.” He motioned in the dark, Cam could just barely see the blur. “Can you lay down on your stomach for me? Stay away from the wet sheets, we can take care of that later.” It was likely going to be a mess for the hotel’s cleaning service to deal with, but they both tried to forget about it anyway. 

As Cam flipped himself over and laid down on the bed parallel to the line of pillows, Luke was in the bathroom behind him. He let the faucet run for a little bit so the water would get warm, then soaked half of a face towel in the stream and turned it off when he was done. Cam folded his arms and rested his head on them like a pillow and hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep.

When Luke returned, he went right to work. He first wiped up the cream that had spilled over the backs of Cam’s thighs, wiping it up in warm, soft stripes. He used a different, clean part of the towel each time, shifting his fingers underneath the towel every time he cleaned a new spot. He had to wipe along the curved, B-shaped underside of Cam’s ass where it met his thigh. Then he wiped then the ass itself, cleaning the taut cheeks until there was no come remaining. The worst of it was between the cheeks, up the crack of his ass, which was still creamy and warm, but Luke scooped it all up with no problem. Thankfully, he didn’t do any deep cleaning. Cam’s hole was puffy and swollen around the rim and it was tender to the touch, so he avoided the area for now.

After a while, Luke had finally finished up the last of it. “There you go. You’re all cleaned up now.” He left for a moment and placed the dirty towel out of sight. When he returned he spoke in a pacifying tone. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You did really well.” Cam closed his eyes, lulled by the sweet voice. “I’m going to run a bath for you now.”

Cam opened his eyes again. He looked up at Luke. His eyes had adjusted to the light, and he could see Luke pretty clearly, except not in color. Cam’s gut knotted up. “I don’t want to take a bath,” he protested.

They both knew that Cam was whining like a little kid, but they also both knew the reason for his reluctance. “I won’t make it too hot,” Luke reassured him. “You can get used to it slowly. It’ll hurt at first, but it will clean you out and reduce the swelling so it stops burning.” He reached out and brushed the side of Cam’s face gently with the back of his fingers, calming him.

The touch was nice. Cam was so grateful to be touched again; it was like reassurance that Luke was really there with him. But his throat was tight again. “I don’t want you to see me,” he whispered. His voice almost broke.

Thankfully, Luke didn’t need to ask. He understood. “I’ll leave the door open just an inch. I’ll be right outside so you can hear my voice. Is that okay?”

Cam resigned. “Yeah,” he agreed. But it was more than okay. Cam wanted to say that hearing Luke’s voice was all he ever needed and wanted, but those words got caught in his throat too.

Before Luke could take his hand away, Cam turned his face, leaned in, and kissed the inside of his palm, just desperate to touch and love him in any subtle way he could. He closed his eyes tight and felt small tears at their corners.

Luke allowed this. Then he stroked the side of Cam’s face one more time. “I’ll take care of you now,” he promised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Cam didn’t talk much. That was beyond atypical for him, and it made Luke’s heart ache to see him like this. Silence was not something that typically accompanied Cam, so sitting with him in a room and hearing nothing at all made this seem like a dream or some other reality, one Luke did not want to be a part of.

He sat in the dark, and he felt alone, even though Cam was just a room away, in the bathtub, sitting quietly. Luke kept the door mostly closed, but the light from the bathroom was the only source of illumination in the entire room, and it gave everything color. He could hear infrequent splashes whenever Cam moved his body to clean himself, but it was quiet otherwise.

Luke closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He sat, solitary on the bed, and closed his eyes. In the other room, Cam was ashamed and embarrassed and smelled like a whorehouse, and all Luke wanted, more than anything, was to take care of him.

“Luke?”

Luke opened his eyes. He turned his face, but didn’t peek inside the bathroom. “Yeah?”

Cam paused again. It took him courage to continue, strength he didn’t have. “I wasn’t with them because I like them more than you.” He paused, taking a long breath. “I do like them, they’re my friends. But I like you the most. Not as a friend, as…” He cut himself off. “I mean… you know.”

Luke’s heart was racing. He didn’t want Cam to go through the anxiety of explaining this, because it could go unsaid. Luke understood, he always did. “It’s alright,” he answered gently. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand.”

Cam did not stop speaking, he couldn’t – he needed to clear the air and make things right. “I wanted you all along,” he promised.

“I know, Cam.” Luke wanted to rush in there and wrap his arms around him and tell him it was alright, but he stayed put and waited it out, and his heart ached because of it.

“No, I… I wanted you first. I wanted you _only_.”

Luke swallowed hard, and it was pain going down his throat, like he was going to cry. He focused hard on making sure his voice didn’t crack. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Yes, I do.” Now it was Cam’s voice cracking, turning weak with oncoming tears. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have even done this, Luke. I should have just gone to you.”

Luke didn’t want to hear him having regrets; he already had enough of those, he could write a book on all of them, but he had to put them all in the past. “It’s okay,” Luke promised for the hundredth time. “You thought this would help.”

“I was wrong. You’re who I needed all along.” Cam paused solemnly. “But I didn’t come to find you.”

Luke held his breath. He didn’t want to question Cam or berate him, he didn’t want to make the quarterback feel better in any way, but he needed _answers_. “Why?” He pleaded through a grimace. “Why didn’t you? I I was really worried, Cam.” He shook his head, desperate. “Why didn’t you come to me? I could have taken care of you. Could’ve made it better, or at least tried.”

Behind the door, the bath water shifted as Cam scooted in his position. “Yeah.” His voice broke, so he paused an assembled himself and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

They didn’t speak again after that. They sat in silence as the bath soaked through him, cleaning up the sweat and tears and other fluids left behind on Cam’s sensitive skin. They tried not to let their minds wander, but it was hard.

After a while, Cam finished up, got himself into a towel, and came back into the room. They still didn’t talk. Luke could hear the bath draining from inside the bathroom, which was still the only source of light. The bed shifted when Cam say next to him; he grimaced upon sitting, for his his hole was still swollen and overworked beneath him. It was cleaner, but still painful to touch or even sit on.

Luke was sitting next to him on the bed. Even their breathing was silent. But Luke could feel something disturbing the air. Cam didn’t need to speak to prove this, but he felt like he was a disappointment, and he was feeling not just shame for what he’d been doing the past few nights, but _guilt_ for what had happened Sunday during the game they had lost. And even though the room was quiet, the tension was ever present in the air, and it made Luke’s gut twist, and it made him want to cry.

They had to talk about this. Luke kept his hands to himself, for now. He didn’t want to disturb the peace Cam was achieving. “Hey.” He kept his voice gentle and kitten-soft. “We have to have a conversation, but I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

Cam nodded faintly. He was all cuddled up in the too-small hotel towel, and his lips were turned into a frown. His expression was goddamn heartbreaking.

Luke got off the bed and got on his knees, kneeling right between Cam’s legs. He placed his hands on the white towel on Cam’s thighs, and looked up, finally making eye contact with him. It probably sounded borderline crazy, but looking into his eyes right then, Luke felt something stir in his soul, like his head and heart and soul were meeting with Cam’s, that they were sharing something, carrying the weight of each other’s emotions. Everything felt lighter, and brighter.

”There are ways to fill the space that was left and ways to heal what was hurt.” Luke’s hands found Cam’s, and he curled his fingers around them, squeezing tight. “Things are going to be hard. Maybe forever. But we will find ways to make it easier, find reasons to laugh and smile again.”

Cam didn’t’ smile. He was in pain, and tired, and ashamed. He didn’t see a light, but he was trying.

Luke looked at him, trying not to feel sad. He could almost see the reflection of his own blue eyes in Cam’s brown ones. “I know a way we can get things back to normal. I want to make love to you.”

There was a pause, as Cam processed the words. Then he nodded. “Yeah. We should.” Cam looked down at his hands, on his lap. Slowly, a small smile crossed his lips. “I love that you call it that. ‘ _Making love_ ’.”

Luke smiled at him, brightly. “Hey, I'm in love with you, so that's what it is, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” Cam put a hand up to his eyes and wiped tears away. He was smiling, different from his normal smile; this one was shy and bashful and flattered beyond belief. “God, I love you so much, man.” He rephrased himself, this time saying it again, formally, with care. “I love you.”

Luke took Cam’s hands and raised them to his lips, and kissed his knuckles. “I love you, too.”

The next season seemed so far away. For the time being, they could be together.


End file.
